


Moon of my life

by r0nj4



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Discussions of Mental Health Issues, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, No seriously it's fluffy AF, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 19:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13508325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0nj4/pseuds/r0nj4
Summary: AU. Even has a crush. Sana begrudgingly plays the role of Cupid. Mutta makes terrible drinks. Mikael literally won’t shut up about Game of Thrones. Isak is clueless.





	Moon of my life

**Author's Note:**

> This fic had been sitting half-finished in my drive for months until I picked it up as a way to procrastinate school work. (That might have influenced some of Even's more negative thoughts about himself, but don't worry. It's not sad. It's maybe the fluffiest thing I've ever written.)
> 
> Also, whenever I write SKAM-fic it always turns out as my own personal vent for my thoughts on Game of Thrones, for inexplicable reasons. This fic contains spoilers up until the latest season of GOT, just so you know. 
> 
> As usual, I don't have a beta so any mistakes are my own.

“Where did he go in the last episode, though? Like, it makes no sense at all to just appear for two episodes as some sort of Westerosi Usain Bolt only to completely disappear in the season finale!”

Mikael has been talking about Gendry Waters for a good fifteen minutes already and Even is one second away from banging his head repeatedly against the table.

“I swear, Gendry is such a good example of everything that was wrong with that season in the first place, you know? And he didn't even mention Arya once! What the fuck was that?! It’s just lazy writing. I mean, they were best buds, partners in crime, he was the Sancho Panza to her Don Quixote.”

Mikael takes a break from his rant to steal a big swig of Even's coconut water and for a blissful moment Even thinks he might finally shut up. 

“It’s been two years,” Even says.

“What?” 

“Two years since season seven.”

“So?” Mikael says, affronted. 

“I think you're just really fucking thirsty for Joe Dempsie,” he deadpans and Mikael glares at him.

“That's besides the point,” he mutters and goes off on a tangent about everything that was wrong about the Winterfell-story arc of season seven. 

Even finally drops his head to the table. He loves Game of Thrones too, and the best part of the show is arguably to break it into tiny little pieces and examine them from all possible sides. Sansa and Arya Stark isn’t his most urgent concern now, though. He and Mikael have been at the Uni library for a good hour already and still haven’t even started the rough cut of the short film they're supposed to be working on. Even had realised the second he saw Mikael's face that morning it would be this sort of day, it was obvious from the glint in his eye and how he barely could contain himself enough to keep from bouncing back and forth on his feet. God, Even loves Mikael. And fuck, Mikael can be annoying. 

“You're not even listening,” Mikael frowns with his open palm directly pointed at him. “Remind me why we're friends again?”

Even glances up from behind his elbows. “I'm really charming?”

Mikael squints.

“I make a great cheese toastie?” Even continues and Mikael is shaking his head. “I supplied you with weed through most of high school?”

“Nah, man, I don’t think that’s it.”

“I do all of your fucking school work for you?”

Mikael laughs out loud and Even notices a group of students at the table next to them throwing annoyed glances.

“That's right!” Mikael smiles and it's too infectious for Even not to return it. 

Even shoots an apologetic smile to the annoyed students and steals back his coconut water. 

“You seem low,” Mikael says and actually looks worried for half a second. “Have you taken your meds today?”

Even huffs, but in the privacy of his own mind recounts his morning to try to remember if he actually did. And yes, he’d nearly forgotten his keys and that’s when he’d spotted the small box of pills on the hall table.

“The real question is, have you taken yours?”

“Oh shit.” Mikael looks a bit caught off guard and starts rummaging through his backpack.

When he finds the red box and sees the compartment labelled TUESDAY MORNING empty, he looks relieved. Mikael is a lot more organized than Even has ever been, and there is definitely some irony in that, considering Mikael is the one with ADHD. In reality, Mikael probably just knows how to manage his shit better. Even thinks back to their first steps towards friendship, as acne-ridden fifteen year olds at Bakka, and how ADHD had somehow become their first common denominator. Even had been diagnosed for a year then, and Mikael since he was twelve. Two years later Even had lost the right to use ADHD as a label when his psychiatrist retracted his initial diagnosis in favor of a different one and, weirdly enough, Even sometimes misses that. He always liked labels. He liked the clearness of them, the imagined permanence. When his own label changed, he was left a bit confounded. But then again, there had also been a time when he thought that straight was an appropriate label for himself, and that had turned out to be quite the misconception. 

“You’re okay, right?” Mikael asks once his backpack is safely tucked back under the table.

Even smiles at him and gives him a solid nod. They don’t speak of their mental health all too often, but they have this silent agreement to still look out for each other. Without Mikael and their whole group of friends, Even would never have managed to graduate High School, of that he is completely certain. 

“I just really want us to finish this before Friday,” Even sighs, gesturing at his open laptop. 

Mikael exhales louder than any human ever has before, and makes his way over to sit next to Even. The film they’re working on for their class in Aesthetics in practical media will only be about four minutes long, but Even really needs to have it done on time if he wants to get an A. After his five page essay on Baz Luhrmann's use of chaos in the creation of imagery, Even is sure that his lecturer hates him. His lecturer’s actual notes on the essay had read: _Ambitious, close to pretentious. Reluctantly, I’m giving you an A on this assignment. Mostly for excellent referencing and the sturdy sources on which you’ve built your grandiose arguments._ He’s not entirely sure if a teacher is allowed to speak to students in such a way, but he’ll not look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“I’m not sure about the setup at all.” Even squints at the screen as he and Mikael view one of the clips. 

The film is about depression, showing how life goes from black and white to colour as one starts getting better. It was Even’s idea originally, but Mikael wrote the script and worked the camera while Even directed it. Now they need to make the fade from black and white to colour look seamless and smooth, as their actor (the wonderful Mutasim who had graciously volunteered) goes from lying under the covers, to getting up and doing the great feat of brushing his teeth for the first time in days. 

“Bro, you always doubt everything we ever do,” Mikael says and slaps him on the back of the head. 

“The premise just feels pretentious and ridiculous. Like something we would have made at Bakka, when we were sixteen and angsty and sexually frustrated,” Even responds.

“Shut up! This is as much my film as it yours, you know, and I won’t have you insulting my amazing skills.”

Even shuts up. Not because he actually heard exactly what Mikael said, no, not really. Only because he sees _him_ across the library. Him. The Boy. Even could swear the world has gone completely silent because all he hears is the boy laughing across the room. Curls tucked beneath a snapback, muddy sneakers, and crumpled t-shirt. Even can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as The Boy sits down at a table with his friends. Even has seen them before, too. The one with the eyebrows and the one with the smile. There’s a third one sometimes, who laughs a bit louder and whom Even’s seen get smacked over the head numerous times by all the others. Mikael snaps him back to reality by literally snapping his fingers in front of Even’s eyes. He’s startled. 

“The Boy?” Mikael asks, eyebrows raised. 

“The Boy,” Even nods. 

He’s twenty-two and it’s honestly a bit silly to be pining over a stranger, but Even doesn’t really care anymore. He’s so _gone_ for this boy. Ever since he first saw him hurrying through the corridor, with this huge scarf around his neck, frowning at the sip of his take-away coffee, and looking so damn cosy that Even could cry. He nearly did, to be honest. 

Mikael snorts. “Wow, so okay, please tell me more about how you’re not sixteen and angsty and sexually frustrated anymore?”

Even bangs his head against the table. Repeatedly. 

 *

It’s Friday and Mikael has finally given him a green light to submit their final version of the movie. He’s not really proud of the finished product, but then again, he never really is. There’s just something so intensely terrifying to Even about letting others see his work. Something that’s been growing in your mind is always personal in some way, and letting others judge his films always makes Even feel like they’re actually judging him and his worth as a person. Even is afraid. He recognizes that feeling for what it is, and doesn’t dwell too long on it. Whenever he does, his mind spirals, and that’s never a good thing. Instead of worrying, he decides to treat himself to the extravagance of coffee from the coffee shop on campus. Just as he’s handed a foamy cappuccino from the barista, he hears someone call his name. Sana Bakkoush is sitting alone at a table in the corner, a steaming mug of tea and at least three open books strewn in front of her. 

“Hey,” he nods as he walks up to her. “I’d sit down, but my class starts in five.”

“It’s cool, I’m waiting for someone anyway. He’s just always late.”

Even has always liked Sana. She’s the sister of one his best friends and somehow always a calming presence, despite the rock-hard exterior she shows to the world. 

“How are you?” she asks and Even knows that Sana knows a lot more about him than she lets on. He’s happy that she asks, still.

“Pretty good, me and Mikael just finished our crappy film. I don’t know if Elias told you about it?” he says and at the sight of her nodding he rambles on. “Yeah, it’s just nice to finally be done with it. Anyway. What are you up to?”

“Oh you know, a bit of nervous system, a bit of brain stem,” she smiles and her dimples are on full display. “All the good stuff.”

Even’s about to reply something about how he admires her dedication, and how she’s a good person for choosing such an admirable line of study when someone interrupts. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” someone is stressing from behind Even, and _oh shit_ he’d know that voice anywhere.

“I swear to God my alarm didn’t go off today which is weird because I got a new phone only last month, do you remember? And then Eskild started talking to me about Beyoncé and he wouldn’t let me leave before I watched some music video where she smashes a lot of cars. But I’m here now!”

It’s him. The Boy. He’s sitting down in the chair opposite Sana and Even has to close his mouth because it had literally fallen open at the sight in front of him. He’s ruffled and unkempt in a NWA-t-shirt and a track-suit jacket that Even desperately wants to rip off. Even’s staring. It’s impolite, he knows, he’s just unfortunately frozen to the spot. Because he might have practiced his first interaction with The Boy a thousand times in his mind and none of the scenarios he’d pictured had featured himself gaping at him like a fish on dry land. 

“Sorry I’m late, I’ll make it up to you,” The Boy tells Sana and _winks_. 

It should be illegal. Even thinks he might faint. Sana raises her eyebrows at the boy and smirks before shifting her gaze towards Even. And that’s not good. That’s very bad. Because that means The Boy is shifting his gaze too, and now two pairs of eyes are staring at him, and Even doesn’t know what to do. Fuck, he’s lost all of his game. 

“Great to see you Sana, I’ll just head off now. Good luck!” Even’s already walking as fast as he can away from the scene of the crime. “Oh, and say hi to Elias. Bye, take care!”

**Even:** Just met Boy. Dead.

**Mikael:** When did you lose your ability to write full sentences?

**Even:** The Boy™. Friend. Sana. Coffee shop.

**Mikael:** OH FUCK

**Even:** Yes, oh fuck

**Mikael:** Did you talk to him? What’s his name? Was he wearing that scarf again?

Even nearly swoons at the thought of a snuggly boy wearing the scarf.

**Even:** No, I don’t know, and no. 

**Mikael:** Hahahaha

did you just stare at him, longingly?

did you drool?

**Even:** Shut up

**Mikael:** Hahahahahaha

**Even:** Why are you like this?

**Mikael: (Face Throwing A Kiss ) **

*

Even doesn’t really remember for how long he’s had Sana’s phone number saved in his phone. It feels like forever by now. He guesses it’s probably been there since his teens, a dusty remnant of that period when Even was just getting better from a bad episode but Elias was going through some shit of his own and Even had needed to call Sana on more than one occasion to get her to help him carry her drunk brother home. It was all a bit shit. He’s happy it’s been years since he actually _needed_ to contact her. He doesn’t need to now, not really. He just really, really wants to.  There’s a cup of tea left on his bedside table. He takes a sip, but it’s gone cold. He’s been sat on his bed staring at his phone for what feels like hours. It’s probably only been minutes. He opens a new message and starts typing. After pressing send he feels like an idiot.

**Even:** Hi Sana!(Sparkles ) I hope studying is going well. Who was your friend?

His head slumps back and hits the wall. He bangs it against the wall a few times, mostly to have something to do. His phone vibrates in his hand.

**Sana:** What? Why are you asking?

**Even:** Ughhh

**Sana:** Are you stalking him?

**Even:** Oh my god, no

**Sana:** Just looking out for him

Even smiles because it’s such a Sana thing to say, such a Sana thing to do.

**Even:** You’re a good person, Sana.

**Sana:** Are you trying to bribe me with compliments to get me to give you his name?

**Even:** Hah! That would be something. No. I just genuinely think you’re nice. I’ll stop creeping on your friends now.

He puts the phone down, and feels a bit better for at least having tried. There’s a book at the foot of his bed that he needs to read before a lecture next week and he reaches down to pick it up. The sound of his phone buzzing against the tepid cup of tea on the table sort of makes him startle.

**Sana:** His name is Isak. 

*

**Gendry Waters deserved better**

**Adam:** Yo Mikael, you seriously have to stop changing the name of the group chat every five seconds

 **Mikael:** I thought you loved me

**Elias:** Stunning turn of events. Sana has invited us to a house party with her friends?

**Mutasim:** Since when do we hang out with Sana’s friends???

**Yousef:** I’m in.

**Elias:** No idea? She just asked if we wanted to come

**Adam:** Sweet, I’m game (Person Raising Both Hands In Celebration ≊ Person Raising Hands)

**Mikael** : :)

**Mutasim:** Wow Yousef how fast can you type??  (Winking Face )

**Even:** Shut up Mikael

**Elias:** Ok, what… is happening

**Mikael:** :) :) :) how nice, to hang out with Sana’s friends. Right Even? Right? :)

**Adam:** Mikael spill

**Elias:** Yes, Mikael. Spill.

**Yousef:** Even, bro (Two Hearts ) What’s up? You good?

**Mutasim:** SPILL

**Mikael:** Sana is friends with The Boy™

**Adam:** Duuuuuude (Fire ) (Fire ) (Fire )

**Mutasim** : Alhamdulillah (Person With Folded Hands ≊ Folded Hands)

**Yousef:** Wooooow

**Elias:** Why am I only friends with losers, seriously

* 

By Saturday, Even is ready. They’re all gathered at Mutta and Adam’s place for pre-drinks and Even may have styled his hair for a good forty minutes before leaving his apartment. He’s wearing black jeans and his favourite Nas-shirt. Life’s good. Until Elias starts questioning him.

“ _Isak_ is The Boy?”

Even hums behind a beer can.

“Sana has been friends with him for _years_ though? I swear you must’ve been to the house at the same time.”

Mutta’s at the kitchen counter, mixing pineapple-juice and tonic water into a truly disgusting mixture he’s named P&T. Mikael and Adam are by the table, arguing over the spotify-queue on Adam’s phone. 

“Isak? Bro, I’ve met him like five times,” Adam says and shrugs, like it’s nothing.

Even is appalled that no one has told him before.

“I’ve never heard of the guy,” Mutta says and slides into the free chair next to Even.

“Thank you!” Even yells and smacks the table.

He may be a bit excited at the prospect of finally meeting Isak. A little bit. 

“Dude, he’s the guy Sana does homework with all the time? Blonde one? Looks kind of grumpy?” Elias says, holding a beer can high and realization seems to dawn on Mutta’s face. 

“Riiight, of course. He’s cute,” he says and smiles at Even, poking him in the side, making him squirm. 

“I can’t believe I’ve never seen him before.”

Mikael is squinting at Even, a bit lost in thought, before humming and nodding. “They became friends in High School, though.”

“Yeah?” Elias says.

“It was probably around the time Even had pneumonia,” Mikael shrugs and all of the boys go _oooh_ in unison.

_Pneumonia_ is their own private code for _really rough and shitty depressive episode._

“Makes sense,” Even says and Mutta is stroking him on the back in a way that makes him feel safe, and loved, and stupidly happy that these boys are his friends.

“He’s really cool. Once, I walked in on him rapping when he thought he was alone in the kitchen,” Elias smiles.

Even feels his heart flutter. Because, damn. This Boy. 

 They make their way to Sana’s friend Eva’s house, playing music on their phones, annoying everyone on the tram. Yousef is already outside waiting for them when they arrive. Even is sure that his hair looks a bit neater than usual, and he’s definitely wearing a new crisp shirt. Even finds this somewhat intriguing, but doesn’t have the time to dwell on it for too long. 

Inside is chaos. Even hasn’t been to this kind of party in years, and a small part of him is overjoyed at the sight of it. People dancing to terrible house music, sloppily making out in corners, spilling wine on the carpet. He hasn’t met this Eva yet, and still his heart goes out to her. 

“I’m gonna put my juice in the fridge,” Mutta says and takes Even’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Adam is already talking to some girl in the corner, Mikael has wandered off, and Even spots Elias and Yousef talking with Sana in the hallway. 

The kitchen is quieter except for two girls giggling very loudly at something on one of their phones. 

“Are you okay?” Even asks Mutta, currently struggling to fit his pineapple juice on one of the shelves. 

Except for a couple of nights in their teens, Mutta doesn’t drink alcohol and Even knows he’s not the biggest fan of parties.

“All good, bro,” Mutta smiles at him, before reaching out and ruffling his hair. “Might not stay all night, though.”

“Who invited you?” 

It’s one of the girls at the table. She slurs when she speaks but Even thinks her eyes look kind.

“Uhm, Sana,” he says, aiming for casual.

The girl’s whole face lights up.

“You’re her brother’s friends?” she asks and gets up to introduce herself. 

Mutta, ever the perfect guest, nods and extends his hand. The girl is Eva and her friend is called Chris. They exchange eyebrow wiggles and smirks and Even instantly likes these girls, instantly understands why Sana likes them too. 

One beer later Even is standing on the makeshift dance-floor, squished between Eva and Chris, and in the middle of the chaos he feels sort of content. His phones buzzes in his pocket. 

**Mikael:** Come to the bathroom

**Even:** WTF

**Mikael:** Just listen to me for once

The hallway is crowded and Even gets lost on the way. He accidentally opens one of the bedrooms and is met by some dude shouting at him to _close the fucking door_ and something that most certainly looked like a blow job mid-act. When he finally opens the right door he nearly stumble over his own feet, because he did not expect _this._

Mikael is sitting in the bathtub smoking from a homemade bong, next to a boy with curly hair and spectacular eyebrows. Eyebrows that Even’s seen multiple times before. And in the corner, sitting with his feet in the tub, Even spots a boy with the world’s most beautiful laugh. 

“Hey, there he is!” Mikael shouts, arms raised.

He’s drunk, and stoned, and ridiculous. Even feels a rush of love for Mikael pouring over him.

“I made friends,” he wags his eyebrows at Even.

“I can see that.”

“Hey man,” Eyebrows says, fistbumping him. “Jonas.”

“Even.”

There’s a second of stillness right before. Because weeks of pining has lead him to this exact moment and Even feels it all. Every little nerve-ending in his body, sparking. His heart, fluttering with every beat. 

“Even. Nice to meet you,” he says and extends his hand to the boy. 

He’s not meeting Even’s eyes, and still, he’s the most beautiful thing Even has ever seen. 

“Isak.”

A soft warm hand in his, sending chills down his spine. He wants to run and hide, but also keep his hand just where it is, both at once. When he lets go, the boy looks up, and once again Even is close to fainting. It’s over a second later but for a short moment it felt like the world had stopped spinning.

“Sit down,” Mikael says and Even complies with the request. 

They’re squeezed together and Mikael calls him a giraffe, and the boys laugh at him. He couldn’t be happier.

“Who’s the bastard?” Jonas asks Mikael while handing the bong over to Even.

Mikael is wearing the shirt Even had given him for his birthday. A white t-shirt with three boxes, _single, taken,_ and _waiting for a bastard in a row boat._ The last box is ticked. Even takes a slow drag and revels at how his body instantly feels lighter. There’s a small voice in the back of his mind telling him that this is stupid, a dumb idea. Just as he’s tuned it out Isak slaps Jonas in the back of the head. 

“I apologise for this guy,” he says, looking at Mikael. “He thinks Game of Thrones is shit.”

Even thinks the sound of his voice is the complete opposite.

“It is, though! It objectifies women and romanticizes violence,” Jonas sounds extremely passionate. 

“You’ve literally only seen one episode,” Isak deadpans.

“It was more than enough.”

Even reaches behind Mikael and Jonas to hand over the bong to Isak. For a heart-stopping second their fingers touch. It’s dizzying.

“Gendry Waters is an excellent character whose story got completely massacred by Benioff and Weiss,” Mikael slurs.

“Oh god,” Even sighs, covering his face in his hands. “You haven’t even read the books.”

Isak laughs. Even has to suppress a smile. 

“So? Neither have you! He was the legitimate heir to the Iron Throne, he deserves some respect.”

“Wow, you’re a monarchist now? That’s what this is?”

“Shut up,” Mikael says, stupid smile on his face.

Even looks over at Jonas and Isak. “Mikael’s just really fucking thirsty for Joe Dempsie.”

“It’s not the point, though!”

Even laughs at him and feels sort of brave, because neither Jonas or Isak looks appalled and that’s a good sign. “You love him.” He pokes Mikael in the side. 

“Says the boy who cried when Loras fucking Tyrell died,” Mikael shouts. “He wasn’t even an interesting character!”

“I cried when he was tortured, not when he _died_.”

“He was tortured by a couple of homophobic assholes,” Isak interjects at the same time and Even thinks _this fucking boy._

Their eyes lock for a second and this time Even’s the one looking down, because Isak has the greenest eyes he’s ever seen and as much as he could stare at them forever he’s equally terrified that they might somehow kill him. 

They sit in the tub and speak about Game of Thrones and monarchy and asshole nationalists for what feels like hours, and at one point Jonas is nearly shouting because he gets so upset. All the while, Isak is giggling in the corner. All the while, Even feels himself falling faster and faster. 

It’s a good night. 

*

Even likes the library; from the smell of old and worn-out books, the calm and stillness of a hundred noses buried in laptops, to the faint smell of coffee from the machine in the corner. He tried the coffee once, and it was terrible, but that’s not the point. It just provides this atmosphere, this _feeling._ Some days he immerses himself in it. Today is such a day. It’s Wednesday and he’s sitting alone at a table typing away on his Cinematography-assignment. Every couple of minutes he takes a small break, just to look around him. Just to soak everything in. He’s not found any research on it, he hasn’t bothered to look really, but he’s certain that productivity is infectious on some level. Like there’s something in the air that just makes students better at whatever they’re doing when they’re around other students. It makes him feel _closer_ to all of the other students, and not just in a proximity-sense. Like they’re all part of the same organism, working together, in symbiosis. 

Before going home for the day Even strolls around the film-section, browses after new books or old ones he’s yet to read. He looks up from the book on Scandinavian Contemporary he’d just picked up to a small shock. Across from him is Isak. Reaching his hand to one of the top shelves in the biology-section, frowning, his shirt riding up a bit so that Even sees the elastic of his boxers. His mouth goes dry and his palms warm. It’s so fucking silly. He tries to will his heart to slow down a bit. It’s a futile attempt at best. Instead he walks up to him.

“Hey,” he says and smiles at Isak. 

When Isak spots him his eyes widen a bit, as if he’s shocked, and Even can see him fumbling a bit with the book in his hands. It’s absurdly endearing.

“Oh,” Isak says. “Hi there.”

He ducks his head and scratches his neck. Even thinks about how soft the skin looks just below his ear. He thinks about what kissing it would be like, how Isak might shiver under his touch, how his skin might smell. He has to stop quite quickly to avoid a very awkward boner. 

“Cells?” Even asks him.

“Huh?” 

Isak is frowning again and Even smiles again. (He’s finding it more and more difficult not to, whenever Isak is around.)

“The book?” he says and points at the one in Isak’s hands.

“Oh, right. It’s for an assignment.”

“Cool.”

There’s a moment when panic nearly bubbles up because Even doesn’t know what to say, he feels like he doesn’t know anything at all. His senses are sort of numb. All he sees is this boy in front of him, and Even is sort of speechless, and Isak is sort of quiet, but Even quells the panic as best as he can, and charges onward. 

“Saturday was fun,” he says.

When Isak nods and smiles at him, the panic simmers back down, returns to the abyss of his mind.

“Yeah, it was great. Mikael seems really nice,” Isak says.

“When he’s not rambling about Gendry Waters, yeah, he’s pretty decent.”

Isak chuckles a bit. Even notices him picking at the cuticle on his left thumb. 

“Jonas seemed really nice too,” Even says.

“He’s pretty alright when he’s not talking about how capitalism has destroyed empathy,” Isak says with a roll of his eyes. 

Even laughs a bit too loud, and is instantly very aware of how silly he must look to people around them. He ducks his head.

“How do you know Sana?” Isak asks and _oh._

He remembers him. Even is equally embarrassed and flattered at the same time.

“I’ve been friends with Elias for years,” he says. “How do you know Sana?”

“We were biology-partners for a year at Nissen.”

“Nerdy,” Even says with a raise of his eyebrows.

Isak scoffs and smiles, and Even is cheering inside. “What? How is that even nerdy?”

“You’re literally holding a book about cells! It’s really nerdy,” Even says and laughs a little. It sounds sort of fake to his own ears, but he really wants to make Isak comfortable.

“You should know that I’m the master of cells,” Isak says and straightens his back, puffs his chest out a bit. 

“Hah! Nerd.”

Isak is smiling and his cheeks are a bit rosy and a weird instinct in Even’s mind tells him to reach out and touch them, to see if they’re warm. He has to stop himself. Isak’s phone buzzes in his pocket at he picks it up, stares at it for a beat, and mutters something to himself.

“I really have to go,” he says, seemingly a bit afraid of meeting Even’s eyes.

“Oh, okay.”

“Have a… good day,” Isak says, squirming a bit before starting to walk away.

“You too!” Even says, but it’s more directed at Isak’s back than anything else because he’s already turned around, and somehow walking away really, really fast. 

He thinks about returning to the film-section to browse further, and is just about to turn around too when he hears Isak speak again.

“There’s a party on friday,” he’s trying not to speak to loud as to not disturb everyone studying. “You should come.”

Even smiles. He literally can’t stop. “I’d really like that,” he says.

“Cool,” Isak says and nods. 

“Where?”

“My place. Well technically it’s my roommate’s party but it’ll just be the same people as last week. He’s stolen all of my friends.”

“That sounds nice.”

“I’ll text you. Oh, and bring Mikael if you want to.”

Isak makes a small salute before leaving for real this time. He’s gone by the time Even realises that Isak doesn’t have his number.  

*

Even feels stupid. He does most of the time, anyway. This time is not really that much different. Isak has invited him to a party. It’s no big deal. Just a party. It means Even will get to see him again, though. It means Even will get to see his apartment. Maybe even his room. That thought makes him shiver. 

Now he’s in his own room, scrolling through facebook of all dumb things. He hasn’t even got his own account, because _pneumonia_ , and well. He’s feeling stupid. Because he might be scrolling through Sana’s ridiculously poorly protected facebook-page, looking for a certain name in her list of friends. Because Isak said he’d text Even and it’s been a whole day, and Isak still probably doesn’t even have his number. He stops scrolling. _Isak Valtersen._ His heart nearly stops. The picture is really ridiculous, some old meme that Even had forgotten about. He’s a bit smitten with how silly Isak is, but mostly disappointed it’s not an actual picture of Isak himself. And then he sees it. A link to instagram. Even isn’t the biggest fan of social media, but sometimes he’s really, really thankful it exists. Isak’s profile on instagram is public and has tons of pictures. Mostly blurry ones of his friends at different parties, holding beers, or in front of a TV playing FIFA. There’s one of Sana wearing a pink hijab with the caption _eid mubarak_ and a clip of Jonas doing what looks like a very advanced trick on a skateboard ramp, with Isak yelling cheers in the background. The sound of his voice has Even smiling. He feels his phone vibrating somewhere beneath his duvet and sets out looking for it. There’s a text from a number he hasn’t saved in his phone and Even’s heart picks up speed. 

_Hey, Sana gave me your number. Party starts around 19 tomorrow. I can text you the address if you want?_

Even can feel his heart racing in his chest and his cheeks hurting from the dopey smile on his face. His phone buzzes again. _Oh, this is Isak btw. Sana’s Biology buddy._

Even feels like replying, in all caps, _HOW COULD I FORGET?_ but settles for a lowkey _Hi Isak! (Dizzy Symbol ≊ Dizzy)(Dolphin ) That sounds really great!(Clinking Beer Mugs )(Hundred Points Symbol ≊ Hundred Points)_

He saves Isak as **Isak** ™ in his phone, because, well. It’s him. 

*

“Is he like you thought he would be?” Mikael asks Even on the way to Isak’s place on Friday. 

“I’ve met him two times.”

“I know.”

Mikael is carrying bottles of beer in a plastic bag, making clinking sounds with every step he takes. 

“I didn’t think he’d be studying medicine, you know?” Even says, brushing his hair up and out of his face, careful not to destroy the volume. “Maybe something sciency, sure. Like engineering or programming or whatever. But a _doctor_? That’s just…”

“A bit out of your league?” Mikael smirks.

“Exactly.”

Mikael pats him on the shoulder. “He’d be lucky to have you, bro. Seriously.”

“Whatever,” Even says with a shrug.

“Stop that,” Mikael says and takes Even’s arm in a firm grip. “Stop thinking shitty thoughts about my best friend, okay?”

Mikael has a finger pointed at him. It’s sort of intimidating.

“I’ll have you know that he’s a really good person. Don’t diss my taste in friends.”

Even kind of hates that Mikael always knows how to make him laugh.

“But what if you have terrible taste in friends?” Even says.

“What?! I have the best taste ever, are you kidding me?”

“Mutta and Adam got in a fist fight last week over who loved you more, that’s just ridiculous friends right there,” Even says.

Mikael ponders Even’s words for a second before clicking his tongue. “True. They’re idiots.”

When they reach the apartment Even is feeling vaguely nauseous, possibly from the three beers he had before, possibly from something else. He jumps a couple of times up and down on the spot, as if getting ready for a fight, but really just to quell the worst of his nerves.

“Ready?” Mikael asks, eyebrow quirked.

“Here goes nothing.”

Mikael rings the doorbell. 

They’re greeted by a man wearing really short denim cut-offs and an Hawaiian shirt only buttoned about halfway up. He has bleached hair and looks thoroughly unimpressed.

“Hello boys,” he says, leaning in the doorway. “Did I invite you?”

“Uh,” Mikael stutters

Even glances over at him and realizes that he’s staring at the man’s chest, blushing a bit. And _oh_ the man has noticed and quickly smirks at Mikael.

“Come on in boys,” he opens the door and winks at Mikael as he passes.

Even is trying his best to hide a smirk. Mikael might be quite outspoken about his attraction to people regardless of their gender, but Even knows that he’s never hooked up with a guy. 

“I’m Even,” he says, extending his hand to the man  currently staring quite openly at Mikael’s ass. 

“Oh hello. Eskild,” he says, offering a very weak handshake in return, obviously distracted. “What’s your name?” 

Mikael looks sort of scared but mostly very, very, intrigued. Even feels very much like the third wheel. 

“You’re here.” 

Isak is standing in the end of the hallway, smiling, pretty flush on his cheeks. He’s wearing a marine button-up shirt, and Even’s never seen him in an actual dressy shirt before. He mentally adds it to the list of things he adores about Isak Valtersen. 

“Hi,” Even says, nodding at him while trying to move past Eskild currently blocking his way, whispering something in Mikael’s ear. 

“Eskild,” Isak gives him a death glare.

“Huh? What is it?”

“What are you doing?”

Eskild rolls his eyes at him and Isak shakes his head a bit, and they seem to be having a very intense conversation only with their eyes. Even watches, a bit amused.

“Mikael came here with Even,” Isak says, emphasizing his words.

“So?” Eskild asks.

Mikael is staring at the floor.

“No. He came here _with_ Even,” Isak says, rolling his eyes yet again and Even thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“Isak, you’re very sweet and I really love you but you’re not making any sense at all right now,” Eskild huffs.

“Stop flirting with Mikael! They’re together!” 

Even nearly falls over because - what? No. Nah. He can’t have heard that right. Mikael finally looks up from staring at the carpet, looking at Isak, then Eskild, and finally Even. They’re both frowning. And then they laugh. It’s impossible not to. Isak is looking very confused and Eskild has gone back to his unimpressed expression. 

“Oh my God,” Mikael says, after pausing a bit for air.

Even pats him on the top of his head. There’s a thought in the back of his mind, something he definitely should acknowledge, but the idea of him and Mikael together is just - _too fun._

“No they’re not,” Eskild says. “You’re not, right?”

“God no!” Mikael huffs.

Even smiles, shaking his head and Isak is staring at the floor looking a bit embarrassed and _right._ Has Isak thought this the whole time? That’s not good. That’s very bad.

“But, I mean, Even had some interesting thoughts when we were like sixteen-”

“Oh my God, shut up Mikael.”

“You had a crush on me!”

“It’s been six years.”

“But,” Isak chimes in. “You hang out together all the time. You’re always together.”

“I love this guy,” Mikael says, pointing a finger at Even. “But it’s definitely one hundred percent platonic.” 

“One hundred percent,” Even emphasizes. 

And there’s this look in Isak’s eye that Even can’t decipher at all. Like he’s confused, and scared, and pleased, and apprehensive. Everything at once. 

“Well this was interesting. I need a drink!” Eskild announces, dragging them all with him to the living room. 

The party is different from the one at Eva’s, less crowded, but somehow even more buzzing. Even assumes it’s a result of the crowd being smaller, people knowing each other better and feeling more open to be themselves. Isak disappears and Even ends up chatting with Jonas and one of Isak’s friends in the corner. It’s the blonde one who always seems to get shit from the others. Even learns he’s called Magnus.

“Wait, you’re _Even_?” he asks and Even notices Jonas shaking his head a bit.

“Yes?”

Magnus laughs, looking at Jonas with his eyebrows raised.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Oh my God, does everyone think I have a boyfriend?” Even has to ask.

“You and Mikael aren’t together?” Jonas asks, looking at him quizzically. 

“Nope. Never have been.”

“Oh,” Jonas says. “I’m gonna grab another beer.”

He walks off. Even knows for a fact that Jonas had just opened a new can. He feels a bit weird, like the odd one out. Mikael is sitting on the couch next to Eskild and Eva, gesticulating wildly with his hands. Eskild seems to nearly have dozed off. Even deduces that Mikael must be talking about Game of Thrones again. For a second he thinks about walking over there, slapping Mikael over the head, and teaching him some actual game. Not that Even himself has any, not anymore. It’s pretty obvious from the way Isak is avoiding him.

“I like your hair,” Magnus says, and Even is a bit startled because he’d forgotten he wasn’t actually alone, sulking in the corner.

“Thanks man.”

“I can see why Isak thinks you’re hot.”

Even chokes on his beer.

“What?” he says, still spluttering.

“Yeah, like I’m not normally into dudes _that_ much but I can totally see it,” Magnus is nodding and if Even wasn’t freaking out right now he’d definitely be very flattered.

“Isak thinks I’m hot?”

Magnus raises his eyebrows and _laughs._

“You’re kidding right?”

“What? No! When did he say that?”

Some realization seems to dawn on Magnus’s face and he squirms a bit.

“I shouldn’t be the one telling you this,” he says, clapping Even on the back. “Talk to Isak.”

Even’s whole body buzzes. 

Had someone asked any of his friends if Even was chill, most of them would probably have said yes. However, if the question instead had been _Does Even have any chill?_ all of his friends would have been shaking their heads profusely, he's aware of that. Looking for Isak in a party this small shouldn't even really be that big of a problem but he has most certainly disappeared. Even finds Chris in the kitchen, talking with a blonde girl who looks like she mostly just wants to go to bed.

“Must we always meet this way?” Chris asks and Even offers her a smile.

“Have you seen Isak?” 

The blonde girl raises her eyebrows and smirks. Chris sighs loudly and rolls her eyes.

“Huh?”

“Don't mind Chris, she's still getting over her high school-crush on him,” Blonde girl says, smiling at him.

“There's just _something_ about him, you know?” Chris says.

“Believe me, I know what you mean,” Even says, nodding.

“We haven't seen him in a while but his bedroom is the last one of the right if you want to check for him there.”

Of course Even wants to check for him there. He's halfway down the corridor when he stops. It's a party. People hook up at parties. Even's hooked up at a few parties himself. What if Isak is in his bedroom but brought someone with him? What if there's someone else in there right now, unbuttoning his shirt, touching his hair? Even _really_ wants to touch his hair. 

A door opens and it's not to one of the bedrooms, it's the bathroom. And there's Isak. Wiping his hands on his trousers, cheeks rosy and eyes unfocused from alcohol. He looks up.

“Hi,” he says, soft and sweet. He lifts his hand, waving at Even, only to frown and let his hand fall back down. 

“Hi.”

“I was looking for you,” he says and Even feels a shiver.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, wanted to show you something.”

“Really?” he asks and Isak nods. “What's that?”

“Come,” Isak says, gesturing for Even to follow him down the hall, into his room. 

It's not like he had imagined. Honestly, he's not even sure what he had imagined anymore. It's messy and cluttered and filled with textbooks and memes pinned to the walls and it's one hundred percent Isak. He hovers awkwardly in the middle of the room as Isak sits down at the edge of his bed, a bit unsteady on his feet, and points straight ahead. There's a poster above his desk, not a huge one, but very present all the same.

“Robb Stark?” Even asks.

“Yeah,” Isak says, and hiccups. Even isn't sure if it's more endearing or worrying. He hadn't realized Isak was so drunk. Still, he's smiling at Even through drooping eyelids and nothing has ever looked so _soft_ before, Even is sure of it.

“He was kind of boring, though, right?” Even asks.

Isak is nodding, his head lolling back and forth. “Still the hottest.”

Even laughs. 

“Don't you think?”

“Couldn't ever decide between him and Talisa, to be honest,” Even says.

“Oh, right” Isak says, scratching his neck. 

It's quiet. Even's in Isak’s bedroom. His mind’s in a blur. All he can think are multiple exclamation marks in a row. There’s dirty laundry in piles on the floor. Socks and boxers and t-shirts. And then there’s Isak. In his button up shirt, avoiding looking into Even’s eyes.

“Mikael’s even more into Game of Thrones than me though,” Even stutters. “Why didn't you show it to him?”

“Because I'm more into _you_.” 

“Oh.”

Even’s body feels weird, his limbs too heavy and out of place, his blood rushing through him at remarkable speed. Everything just fades away from him. 

“You’re not gonna say anything?”

Even looks at him, blinks a few times, tries to focus his eyes. 

“Huh?”

“Nevermind,” Isak says and runs a hand through his hair. _Soft._

“No, sorry, I space out when I get nervous,” Even says and ducks his head. “You, uhm- you make me nervous.”

Isak looks at him, his lips parted, eyes glassy. 

“Bad nervous or good nervous?”

Even bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing, looks down at his feet on the floor. He’s standing in Isak’s room, on Isak’s floor, wearing turquoise socks with flamingos on them. He's alone with Isak. Isak, who’s “into him”, or so he says. Even's mind is just as cluttered as Isak’s room. 

“Very good nervous.” 

Isak’s lips curve into the shape of an o but he doesn’t actually say anything. It's very quiet. Even hates the quiet.

“Yeah, I thought about walking up to you in the library like a thousand times, but every time I was about to do it I got too nervous. And when I get nervous I just say all these weird things, like - like I lose my ability to act cool, so I didn’t do it because I figured you’d think I was this weird random guy who was just rambling in front of you, or whatever. I don’t know. And then I saw you with Sana and asked her about you, and she invited us to that party at Eva’s and… yeah.” 

Even cringes, because he’s just done it _again_.

Isak just looks at him, completely cool. Even wonders if Isak’s heart is beating as fast as his own. 

“You’ve seen me in the library before?”

_God_ , Even thinks. _He has no idea._ Even feels himself involuntarily raising his eyebrows and huffing.

“I sort of thought you might have started to think I was stalking you or something,” he says. “I always look at you.”

“No, you don’t. You’re always reading a book, or laughing at something on your computer with Mikael, or pushing your hand through your hair and staring out the window, or whatever...” Isak says and Even thinks he’s blushing. 

“You’ve seen _me_ before?”

Isak groans. “Oh my god, Even. It’s impossible not to see you.”

He doesn’t really understand what Isak is saying. His mind is no longer registering what’s going on in the conversation. Suddenly he feels light, soft as a cloud drifting through the sky. He’s vaguely aware of Isak standing up, getting into his space. He’s so close Even can see the small scattering of hairs growing between his eyebrows. It should be a turnoff. It’s not. He feels the stutter of Isak’s breath against his cheek. The smell of beer and cheap cologne. Even’s heart is a rabbit in his chest, trying to escape. He doesn’t know where to look. Isak is everywhere. 

“I always look at you, too.”

The next thing he knows is Isak’s lips, and how soft they are against his own. Isak’s fingers, and how carefully they are trailing against his hips. Isak’s tongue, and how it feels like a small wonder when it slides across his bottom lip. Even hears himself making a sound, like he’s been waiting for this forever. It’s true, anyway. Isak gets even more confident at that, places his thumb and forefinger at Even’s chin to tilt his head, and to get Even to part his lips for him. When he feels Isak’s tongue against his own he nearly faints. Has to put a hand on Isak’s shoulder to steady himself. The thing about Isak’s shoulder, he discovers, is that it’s really close to the soft skin right below Isak’s ear. Even’s hand fits right in. 

They pause for air, and Isak is so close that Even can feel his smile against his lips. 

“I’m into you too, by the way,” he says, pressing a peck to Isak’s lips. “I mean, maybe you figured that out by now, but I just wanted to make-”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Isak says and presses their lips together again. 

Even has never laughed while kissing before.  

* 

“The secret is using organic beetroot juice, it has the best colour pay-off,” Mutta says to Even while pouring the concoction into the glasses lined up on the counter. “Only problem is it stains a lot, so we probably shouldn’t give Mikael one, he’d fuck that up in a second.”

“Good call.”

“Even, do you have snus?” Mikael shuffles into the kitchen with a big grin on his face. There’s energy bouncing off of him. Even thinks that if electricity could ever be rendered from positive emotions, Mikael would solve climate change all on his own. Fossil fuels just wouldn’t be necessary anymore. He reaches into his pocket for the box of snus and hands it over.

"My hero. Also, did I hear someone say my name?"

“No, you didn’t,” Mutta says and winks at him. “But you can carry the popcorn.”

They’re at Mutta and Adam’s place. It’s 02:45 in the middle of the night and they should probably be quiet as to not wake up the neighbours. They don’t really care. Everyone is gathered in the sofa in the living room, all squeezed together. Elias has fallen asleep in Adam’s lap and is currently drooling on a pillow. Yousef is violently playing a game on his phone in an attempt to stay awake. Mikael plonks down next to Jonas who immediately steals the bowl of popcorn from him. Isak is in the corner, smiling softly at Even. He showed up wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and sitting burrowed into the corner of the sofa he’s the cutest thing Even has ever seen. 

“Saved you a seat,” Isak says.

Even kisses him on the top of his head and sits down next to him. “That was very nice of you.”

“I know,” Isak replies, and looks up at him with that expectant look on his face that means he wants a kiss. Even can never fight that look. Never really tries. He puts an arm around Isak’s shoulders and kisses him lazily, like they have all the time in the world. Isak folds into his side.

“Yo, listen up!” Mutta shouts, placing the tray of drinks on the table. “I present to you, a Dothraki special.” He pauses for effect and holds up a glass as if it was a trophy. “The Blood of Dragons.”

“How is that a _dothraki_ special?” Mikael frowns.

“What?”

“The dothraki have horses. It’s the Targaryens who’ve got dragons.”

Jonas sighs. “Why did I sign up for this? Isak? Why am I here?”

Isak doesn’t reply, too busy burrowing his face deeper into the crook of Even’s neck.

“I don’t even like Game of Thrones!” Jonas says.

“Blasphemy!” Adam says.

“Do you think you can come into our house and disrespect us in that way?” Mutta adds.

Even looks at Jonas, rolling his eyes at how ridiculous his friends are. When he looks down at Isak he notices how is eyes have fluttered closed. He puts a hand through the soft curls on his head, because he’s _allowed_ to do that now. It’s a revelation every time.

“Hey,” Even whispers.

“Mhm,” Isak says.

“We can watch it tomorrow instead if you want.”

Isak blinks and frowns at him. “Are you kidding?”

“You seem tired.”

“Tired? I’m never tired.”

“Oh? You didn’t fall asleep just now?” Even says, smiling.

Isak huffs. “What do you even mean _watch it tomorrow_? We’ve been waiting for this for two years, Even. I’m awake.” 

“Whatever you say.”

Adam is taking a sip of the dothraki special, Mutta carefully gauging his reaction next to him. Adam makes a disgusted face. Yousef laughs but puts a comforting hand on the top of Mutta’s head. Jonas and Mikael are laughing at something, dropping popcorn all over the couch. Even feels ridiculously fond of his friends. 

“I would never miss Game of Thrones,” Isak says, suddenly sounding wide awake.

“No, I know. It’s one of your favourite shows.”

Even can feel Isak shrugging against him. “It’s not just that though, is it?” 

“No?”

Even feels love rushing through his body as he looks down at Isak’s beautiful green eyes.

“No, I mean, it’s kind of thanks to Game of Thrones that I met you.”

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

Isak has this furrow with between his eyebrows. Even thinks about putting a thumb there to smooth it out. The problem is that Even finds Isak terribly endearing when grumpy.

“Just, don’t _ever_ tell Sana that,” Even says. “She might kill you.”

"I won't," Isak says and leans in and kisses Even on the cheek. “ _Moon of my life,_ ” he adds, his voice brimming with sarcasm.

Even puts both of his arms around him, breathes in the scent of his shampoo and fabric softener. It's remarkable to him, how his heart still feels at least twice its normal size whenever he gets to hold Isak close.

"My sun and stars," Even whispers in his ear.

He never wants to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it to the end! Comments are always welcome but, as you can probably guess, I feel very much the same way as Even does about letting people see his work. And I'm obviously not a film student! Please don't hate me, film students out there.
> 
> I spent so much time editing this (i.e. trying to get those damn emojis to work on AO3) that I'm not even sure if any of this makes sense anymore.
> 
> Also, staying up until 3 am to wait for HBO to release Game of Thrones is a legitimate thing we do in Scandinavia. We're idiots.  
> [tumblr.](http://a-station-on-your-way.tumblr.com/)


End file.
